The Hunger Games: Cato's POV
by meginmd
Summary: The Hunger Games as seen from Cato's POV. Title is work in progress.
1. The Reaping

The Reaping

I stood in the training arena, watching as the other people around me trained. Most of us were fantastic with knives and swords. Me, I was an expert with swords. I watched as my girlfriend, Clove, threw knife after knife into headless dummies. I grinned inwardly, then picked up my sword and then headed to the training floor. Within seconds, I had beheaded one dummy and impaled another. Clove caught my eye and grinned. Today was the day that we'd all been waiting for: Reaping Day. Last year I'd been reaped, but a friend of mine had volunteered. He'd made it to the top three, but had been killed by Jaxson, a tribute from District 4 who'd gone on to win the games, despite the cold and snow.

I guess I should tell you a little about me. I'm Cato. I'm sixteen, and I'm an only child. Since I can remember, I've been trained in the art of combat. I could handle a sword as easily as a pencil, and I knew that my strength was also to my advantage. Clove was a "knifer", someone whose specialty was knife-throwing. Last year I finally admitted that I was attracted to the brunette, and we'd been dating since.

"Attention, attention," boomed a voice over the speaker, "All tributes please report to the Reaping Area". I followed Clove out to the reaping area, watching as all the other tributes filed in. As we filed into the Reaping Area, there was an atmosphere of happiness. This is what we all worked for. I kissed Clove on the top of her head, and then told her I'd see her later. I hoped that she would be reaped; I knew that no contestant—other than me—could possibly beat her.

I stood in the midst of the sixteen year olds, watching our escort, Vania Trebli, walk across the stage. She's been the emcee for the Reaping for as long as I can remember. I look around, staring at the faces of my fellow male tributes. There'll all like me: strong, brutal, unmerciful. Vania starts her speech about the war, and I roll my eyes. _Let's just get to it, _I think, _let's get this show on the road! _

"Now it is time to choose this year's tributes," she trills. "Ladies first." She reaches into a stone bowl, then pulls out a name.

"Clove Kensha," Vania calls.

I stifle a smirk as Clove flashes the cameras a smile. She waves to the crowd as she walks up to the stage, grinning widely. Most of the other females start up grumbling; no one would dare volunteer to take Clove's place. Not unless they wanted a knife in the back.

"Congratulations, young lady," Vania says to her. "Now for the boys."

Again she reaches into the stone bowl, opening the piece of paper. "Chaz Quinlan!"

Before Chaz can step forward, I do. "I volunteer!" I call out, walking with the Peacekeepers up to the stage. Clove narrows her eyes at me, and I smile at her.

"Very good," Vania says. "Shake hands!"

Clove reaches out first, and I take her hand in mine, wincing as she digs her nails into my palm.

I smile. _Let the games begin, _I think.

"You ass," Clove yells as she barges into my room on the hovertrain. "What are you thinking, volunteering?"

"Babe, don't worry," I smile. "You and I make one hell of a team. I mean, look at all those other losers. I can't believe that some coal miner's daughter out in twelve volunteered. What chance does she have?"

"That doesn't matter and you know it," she murmurs. This soft side of Clove is one that I hardly get to see. She's always so tough. "What if I have to kill you? Or you me? Then what?"

I kiss the top of her head. "It's not going to come to that. I promise."

Anger flickers in her eyes. "You can't promise that, Cato, and you know it."

"I know," I admit. "But look at the tributes this year. None of them are really competition. And you know that we'll probably team up with those tributes from one to kill all the others."

Clove sighs. "I suppose."

I kiss her again, and she leaves to go unpack. A half hour later, Clove and I sit in one of the train's cars, waiting for our mentor, Darcy Larta. She won the games a few years back. She enters, a tall, willowy blonde. She looks deceptively innocent; but we all know how deadly she is with a knife. The long scar running from her temple to her neck shows that. During her game, one of the tributes had tried to kill her with her own knife. Needless to say, he didn't succeed.

"Cato and Clove," she smiles. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," I smile. "So how do we win?"

She laughs. "So eager! I like that. You win by staying alive. I know as well as you do that you'll probably form an alliance with the tributes from one and four. Hunt at night; it'll be easier to knock out the other tributes. I'd watch out for the girl from Twelve; something tells me that she's a force to be reckoned with."

I scoff. "Please."

"Cato, I wouldn't discount her. I almost made that mistake. Just look at my scar. Anyway, the first thing you do is find shelter. Find a place that you can monitor the whole arena, if it's possible. Like I said, hunt at night. It'll be easier to pick off the other tributes."

"Alright," Clove says. "What else?"

"You and Cato are Careers, which will make it easier for me to get you sponsors," Darcy says.

We continue talking for almost two hours when Clove gasps. "Look!"

I look out the window at the emerging Capital. I grit my teeth. This is it. _Here we go, _I think, as Clove reaches for my hand. I give her a reassuring squeeze.

_I'm going to win, no matter what, _I think.


	2. The Training

(A/N: I didn't realize the D2 tributes had *two* mentors. Oops!)

"Welcome to the Remake Center," Vania says as she leads us to a huge room full of people. Two of them—a gorgeous blonde with streaks of green on her skin and some guy with orange skin—rush to meet us.

"I'm Ceania," the blonde says to Clove. "I'm your stylist."

"You must be mine," I say to the orange skinned guy.

"Yes," he says, "I'm Nikio."

"Your district is known for its stonework. For bringing us Peacekeepers. This theme of strength is what I want to incorporate into your costumes for the parade tonight," Ceania says. "I'm thinking Roman gladiators. Fighting to the death and all that. But first, let's get you cleaned up."

Clove and I separate, each going with our stylist. Thanks to living in District 2, the most Nikio does to me is to add some tanner and highlights in my hair. Before long, Clove and I are in the basement of the Remake Center, along with the other tributes. I can't help but to survey the competition. There are the tributes from one, a beautiful blonde and her male counterpart. The tributes from three are unremarkable, as are the tributes from four and five. Yet watching the female from five makes me nervous. I don't like the way she looks. There is something sly about her.

The tributes from six and seven are equally forgettable, though I think once upon a time someone from that district won. I think her name was Jennifer or something. So I think maybe that I shouldn't discount them so quickly. The rest of the tributes are just as boring as the rest. As I look at the tributes from Twelve, the female catches my eye. I hold her gaze, unfazed. She looks at me, then back at the scraggly looking blonde mentor of hers. I scoff. With that mess—he _vomited _on stage—what chance does she have?

Nikio comes up to me, holding a gladiator hat. We dress quickly, then take our places on the chariot. Out horses are used to the noise of the crowd outside; they are hardly moved by it. Suddenly there is fanfare and the parade begins. Clove and I wave happily and excitedly to the crowd, gifts of roses and purses of coins falling on us. I know that we'll get sponsors without a problem. Near the end of the parade, there is a sudden commotion. I look up at the huge monitors to see the girl from twelve is on fire!

I narrow my eyes. This is not what we need. This bitch, this nobody from twelve is stealing the spotlight. I grit my teeth. So maybe she's a threat after all. The horses stop in front of the president's mansion and like every year, he launches into his customary speech. After that, we are taken back into the basement.

I angrily glare at the district twelve tributes, and when their mentor catches me looking at them, he leads them away.

The next morning is the first day of training. I feel at home here, quickly decapitating one dummy and impaling the next. Clove practices her knife throwing. From fifteen feet away, I kill the dummy with a spear through the heart. I grin inwardly when I see the girl from twelve watching me from the camouflage station. _What good will _that _do her? _ I wonder. The next couple of hours pass in a blur. Just before we are supposed to leave for the day, I notice my knife is missing.

"Where is it?" I yell, pushing the tribute from district 6. "Where's my knife?"

"I don't have it," he shouts, pushing me back. "I don't have it!"

"Your ass is mine in the arena," I yell as several peacekeepers lead him away.

Clove rushes to my side, trying to calm me down. I shake her off and walk to the spears, taking out my anger on the dummies.

The next day, I stand with Clove, Marvel and Glimmer, the tributes from District 1. We are watching the other tributes. I'm watching the male from District 12 as he climbs netting. He struggles, then falls off the netting. I laugh, and Marvele elbows me. The girl rushes to his side, kneeling by him. I can't hear what she says, but he struggles to his feet and over to the weight station. He lifts one of the 100 pound weights. I look at Clove, waiting for him to drop it. Instead, he throws it towards the target, knocking off the silver poles. I lift my eyebrows in admiration, then follow the other tributes to the cafeteria.

On the final day of training, I wait with Clove outside the training room. The night before, Enobaria and Brutus told me to show off my strength, that the gamemakers would be expecting only the best from the tributes. A metallic voice says "Clove Kensha" and she kisses me before she goes in. I wait for what seems like forever before she comes out. The same metallic voice calls my name and I go into the training room. Set up around the perimeter are weapons, bows, everything. I pick up a sword and rush across the room, severing limbs and decapitating others. For the finale, I throw a spear 20 feet, which finds its target: right on the heart of a dummy.

"Cato," I said. I left the training room to a round of applause.


	3. The Interviews

The Tribute Interviews

I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, thinking of my life back home. Growing up, the Hunger Games was everything to me. Not only me, but my family, my friends, Clove. I started training at five. By ten, I was lethal with a sword and spear. Now, here I am, a tribute in the 73rd Hunger Games. I know that my only real competition comes from the other Careers: Marvel and Glimmer from one and the two from District Four. Tonight is the marks one day to go before the Games begin. Tonight the scores from the training are read and tomorrow is my interview with Caesar Flickerman. He's been hosting the Games for as long as I can remember. I sighed. I was excited for the Games, I couldn't wait to show off my skills.

There is a knock on the door. I sit up as I tell the person to come in. It's my mentor, Brutus.

"Come on, Cato," he says. "They're about to announce the scores."

I swing my legs off the bed and follow Brutus out to the living area. Clove sits with Enobaria, her knees at her chest, her arms wrapped around them. She's nervous. Very rarely do I get to see this side of Clove: she'd rather die than let anyone know she was anything more than a killing machine. The TV hums to life, and there is Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith.

He gives his standard speech, and then the scores begin. Most of the Careers get a score of 8-10; I myself get a 10. Clove also gets a ten. My mind wanders from the scores. When Caesar reads off that Katniss Everdeen from 12 got an eleven, Brutus swears. Clove gasps.

"An eleven? Some nobody from District 12 got an eleven?" Enobaria shouts.

"That's her, then," Brutus says. "That's the one you two need to kill."

"I wonder what she showed the Gamemakers," I ask aloud. "She didn't show off any skills in the training arena."

"Who cares?" Clove snaps. "She's a threat. We need to take her out."

The next morning, I stand before the mirror, admiring the way the suit enhances my strength. Clove lets herself in, gorgeous in a creamy gown that makes her look more innocent then she is.

"Ready?" She asks. I nod, and together we meet up with our mentors and stylists. Soon we find ourselves on stage with the rest of the tributes. The girl from one looks absolutely beautiful in her gown, which is completely see through. Every now and then I sneak a look at the one from twelve—Katniss—who is so obviously nervous. Flickerman tells a few jokes, then turns his attention to Glimmer. She plays up the sexy bombshell angle, and then it's Clove's turn.

"So, Clove, tell me, how do you see yourself winning these games?"

She smiles. "Well, Caesar, I am quite remarkable with a knife. Lethal, even."

Caesar oohs. "Well, I guess we better watch out for you then! Tell me, Clove, are you prepared for what lies ahead?"

"I am. I am fierce, strong and a hunter."

"Clove Hensha, everyone," Caesar says. There is thunderous applause. "Our next tribute is Cato Ronshi. Cato, tell me about you."

"Well, Casear, I like to think of myself a killing machine. I've trained my whole life for this moment. I promise you all here that I will be the victor of these hunger games."

The rest of the interviews pass unremarkably. That is, until we get to Twelve. Katniss bumbles over her answers, then twirls like some five-year-old, making her dress appear to be on fire. Beside me, I can hear Clove breathing hard. I know she's furious and can't wait to use her knives on Katniss. She sits, and then the boy stands up. Peeta.

He plays to the audience, making them laugh. It's only when he mentions his crush does he get my full attention. _He's in love with Katniss? _I wonder. Beside me, I see Clove bit her lip. She sighs, and I can tell whatever lies between Katniss and Peeta is hitting too close to home for her. She keeps looking forward, but from her shallow breathing I can tell she's fighting one hell of an internal battle. It takes all of my self-control not to grab her hand, to tell the audience that Peeta is probably lying and that Clove and I are the real thing.

_Clove, be strong, _I mentally tell her, knowing that she can't hear me. The interviews are finally over, and Clove keeps herself together long enough to walk off stage. Then she bolts for the elevator.

"Clove!" I yell, rushing after her, just making it into the elevator. She presses the button for our floor, then turns on me.

"Cato! Did you see that? Those _losers _from District Twelve, trying to capitalize on star crossed love! They have no idea! They have no idea what it was like to watch you volunteer! I hate that I'm even admitting this, but you know that I love you so much! It _killed _me to watch you volunteer, knowing that you are going to die or me or both of us! I can't stand the thought!" she beats her fists against my chest, and I wrap my arms around her.

"Clove, stop, calm down," I kiss her softly. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you in the games. Nothing."

"You can't promise that, Cato," she whispers. "There can only be one victor."

"I know, Clo. But I won't kill you. They will have to kill me before I'd harm you."

She sniffles, then looks up at me. "Damn you, Cato."

I laugh. "Feeling better then?"

She scoffs, slapping me across the face. "I won't ever be weak like that again, I promise you."

I rub my face ruefully as I watch her stalk to her bedroom. _It's moments like that that make me love you, Clo, _I think.


	4. The Hunger Games: Part One

The Hunger Games Part One

_I've taken some liberties with the book at this point. It's still Cato's story, just different! _

The day of the Hunger Games dawns bright and sunny. After dressing, I join Clove and the others at the breakfast table. I sit beside Clove, tearing into the breakfast of eggs.

"You two ready?" Brutus asks, sipping from a coffee mug. "Ready to win?"

"Of course," Clove snaps. "My first victim is going to be that insufferable bitch Katniss."

"Easy there, tiger," Enobaria says. "Now, at the cornucopia is your best chance to kill off the rest of the tributes. There's probably going to be food, weapons. I'm sure there'll be knives and a sword for you, Cato."

I nod. "Since you have the best chance of winning, I'd hang out by the supplies. Maybe have one of the tributes from the technology district wire you a trap for anyone trying to steal supplies."

"Sounds good," I say. We finish breakfast and I return to my room to take one last look at freedom before I have to fight to the death. Clove knocks and lets herself in. She rushes to me, holding me tight.

"Cato, say it again." She whispers.

"I won't let anything happen to you," I tell her. She backs away, holding a ruby ring in her palm.

"For you," she tells me, wrapping my hand around her birthstone ring. "I know I brought it for me, but I want you to have it. Just in case I die."

"You're not going to die, Clove."

She smiles regretfully. "Again, you don't know that."

There's a knock at the door. "Cato? It's time."

I pull Clove to me, kissing her. "Let's go kick some ass."

We walk through the tunnel that leads us to the craft that will take us to the arena. We come out on the roof and a hovercraft appears above me.

"Good luck," Brutus says, slapping me on the back.

I nod, then walk to the ladder that leads to the craft. When I step onto the ladder, I'm frozen in place as I'm lifted into the hovercraft. I'm still frozen in place as a woman in white walks up to me, telling me to stay still as she injects a tracker into my arm. I grit my teeth as the needle pierces my skin. This tracker lets the Gamemakers know where all the tributes are at any time. After the woman moves on, I'm released from the ladder. I follow the other tributes into the breakfast area, but I'm too wired to eat. Clove sits in a plush chair by a window, and I go over to her. I stand next to her in silence, watching the buildings of the Capital fly by beneath us. About half an hour later, the windows black out.

That can only mean that we're close to the arena. I follow Nikio down another ladder, which leads us to the catacombs under the arena. We follow instructions to my prep room. It bothers me just a tad that I will be the only person to use this room. After the Games, the arena will be turned into a tourist attraction. I head to the bathroom, making sure that my hair is in place. I pat my pocket, Clove's ring imparting strength to me.

When I come back out, there is a white-wrapped package on one of the tables. These are my clothes for the Games. I get dressed in the uniform that all tributes wear: brown pants, green shirt, brown belt, and a black jacket that falls to my thighs.

"Expect cold nights," Nikio tells me. There's nothing to do now but wait. I drink some water, waiting for the voice to tell me it's time for launch. I smile half-heartedly at Nikio, knowing that in just a few hours I will have ended a few lives. I walk over to the metal plate, watching as a glass cylinder comes down around me and the disc begins to rise. I stand tall and proud. This is the moment. This is the moment I've been waiting for my whole life. As the disc lifts me into blinding brightness, I hear the voice of Claudius Templesmith, the announcer of the Hunger Games.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin!"


	5. The Hunger Games: Part Two

_Again, Cato's POV, with small liberties taken. Needless to say, some violence! _

The Hunger Games, Part Two

I have to stand on the metal disc for sixty seconds. Otherwise, I'll be blown to pieces. As I wait for the countdown to end, I look around at the other tributes. There's Clove, intent on what I guess is a pack of knives. There's the two from Twelve, Peeta and Katniss. In the great cold cornucopia, there is everything we need to survive: food, water, weapons. The least valuable things are farthest from the cornucopia. Inside the cornucopia are the most important things. From my vantage point, I can see what looks like a wicked sword deep inside the cornucopia.

I look around the arena: A forest, lake and flat ground. Great place to hunt. I catch Clove's eye and give her a slight nod as the gong rings out. I leap off the disc and run to the nearest weapon: a small sword. I grab it and run the nearest tribute, slitting his throat. I pick up a small silver Thermos that he had. I grin then run after another tribute, stabbing her with my sword. I make my way into the cornucopia, where I take out another tribute. Behind me, I hear someone's cry of pain. My focus is on the array of swords before me. I pull out the middle one: a long double-edged sword. I turn back around, and it seems that the bloodbath is over. Bodies litter the area. I walk out into the grassy area, sword at the ready. But most of the tributes now have either fled or are dead.

Clove runs up to me. "I almost had her!"

"Katniss?"

"Yes! The boy from district 9 was standing over her; I think they were fighting over a backpack or something. I killed him, and tried to kill that bitch, but my knife got stuck in her backpack and she ran off."

"We'll get her, no worries." I tell her. "Where's she going to go? In fact…we need to find her partner. Peeta. He'll lead us straight to her. And then, Clove, you can use your knives on her."

Clove giggles and we go to the loot that is still left over. We find some food, bread and fruit.

"We should find the other Careers," Clove suggests.

"Already here," a female voice says from behind me. I turn to see Glimmer and Marvel. Marvel has some sort of knife, and Glimmer a set of bow and arrows.  
"What do you think?" I ask.

"We need to pick off these other tributes," Marvel says, sitting down on one of the packages. "But I think we should wait until tonight."

"Look!" Clove shouts, pointing. Walking towards us is Peeta. Glimmers readies her bow and arrow. I touch her shoulder. "Wait," I tell her, "let's see what he wants."

"Don't shoot," he says, with his hands up. "I have a proposition for you. I want to form an alliance."

I raise my sword, touching his chest. "What if we don't want you to? I could kill you right here, right now."

He shrugs. "I have talent." He points to Clove. "She saw me kill a tribute with a knife. Besides, it'll be worth your time for me to join you."

I look at Clove. She nods as I turn back to Peeta. "You're brave, you know, approaching us like this."

He doesn't flinch. "Not interested? Okay. I just think it'd be easier for you guys to kill the others with more people."

"Fine," I say.

I sheath my sword and address the other tributes: "Let's go hunting!"

Darkness falls as we wander through the trees. There's a loud boom and Clove gasps.

"The cannons," Glimmer murmurs. We listen as the cannon tolls today's death: eleven in all. The hovercrafts must have collected the bodies now that we've left the cornucopia.

Marvel hands me a pair of sunglasses.

"What are these?" I ask.

"Night vision," he responds, slipping on his own pair. "It'll make it easier for us to find the unfortunates."

We hunt for a while, but find nothing. Then Clove stops as the anthem begins to play. We look up at the floating screen in the sky. We watch as the dead are listed: one from District 3, one from 4, one from 5, both of the tributes from 6 and 7. The boy from 8 and both from 9. And finally, the girl from 10.

We walk on in silence for what seems like eternity when Clove stops short.

"Do you smell that?" she asks.

I nod. "Smoke."

Glimmer laughs. "What idiot thought it'd be a good idea to light a fire at night? Do they want to die?"

I scan the woods. It's heavily wooded, but I can see a faint orange glow: a fire. "There," I point.

We quietly sneak up on the tribute, who turns out to be the girl from district 8. We are no longer in a pack; we've surrounded the girl, who is sleeping by the fire. "Now," I yell.

We run up to her. I'm first to reach her, my sword point on her throat.

"No, please," She begs, "Don't kill me."

"No, please," Clove mimics, making Gimmer smirk.

I stab the girl through the stomach and she screams.

"Twelve down, eleven to go," Marvel hoots, and Clove and Glimmer cheer happily.

I kneel, cleaning my sword off in the grass. "See what she has on her."

I hear them rustling, but from their sounds of disappointment I can tell that she had nothing good on her. "Better clear out so they can get the body before it starts to smell," I say. We head towards a clump of willow trees when Glimmer stops.

"Shouldn't we have heard the cannon?" she asks.

"I'd think so. We've left the body; they can come and get her," Clove says.

"Unless she's not dead," Glimmer says.

"She's dead; I stabbed her myself," I snap.

"Someone should go check," Marvel says.

We argue, then Peeta steps into the fray. "Enough! I'll go kill her myself!"

I look to the trees; I could have sworn I heard some rustling. Probably nothing, I tell myself, probably animals.

I scoff. "Go on then, Lover Boy. Go see."

Peeta stomps off to finish off the girl. Clove turns to me.

"Why don't we just kill him now and get it over with?"

I shake my head. "Let him tag along. What's the harm? He was pretty handy with that knife earlier. Besides, he'll lead us right to her."

Clove scoffs. "You think she fell for that oh-i-love-you crap?"

"She might have. She seemed pretty stupid to me. Remember her spinning in that dress?" Glimmer laughs.

Marvel stares in the direction Peeta went. "Wish I knew how she got that eleven."

"Bet you Peeta knows," Clove says.

The sound of snapping twigs lets us know that Peeta is retuning, and we fall silent.

"Was she dead?" I ask.

"She is now," Peeta says as the cannon fires.

"Great," I smile. "Let's go back to the cornucopia."

We take off at a run as the sounds of birdsong fills the air.


End file.
